


this is my home (with you in my arms)

by Imiaslavie



Series: the road to recovery (Shance Omegaverse AU) [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Omega Lance (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 02, Romance, broganes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 21:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10580004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imiaslavie/pseuds/Imiaslavie
Summary: As if answering his thoughts, the door slid open, revealing Lance in his favourite shirt with a wide neck that left one of his shoulders exposed and loose shorts ending mid-thigh, Lance’s choice outfit for leaving all the scent glands in the open. And still…“How are you… here? I mean… You are right in front of me and I can’t…” Smell you.Omegaverse AU in which omegas can shut down their biological processes and turn into betas if they're put under a lot of stress.





	

Shiro never would’ve thought that feeling something gross like a cold clammy sweat on his skin would make him happy. But here he was, shifting uncomfortably in his armour, undersuit clinging to his skin, and he was _happy_. Because physical sensations meant one thing.

He was back.

After the Black Lion had dispersed Shiro into atoms and then reassembled him on the other plane, Shiro hadn’t felt a thing. Motion, temperature, things like exhaustion or hunger. Not one thing. Sometimes he had tried to pretend he felt goosebumps from cold or fatigue from not sleeping, but to no avail.

And now he was back. His team had done the incredible, having built the enormous wormhole-like portal for Black to come through, filling her with energy, making her most delicate programming active again, so she could tug him back from the save space she had put him into about a year ago.

Shiro almost fell a couple of times while trying to leave Black’s cockpit. Walking seemed so much harder than aimlessly floating through nothingness, and he dreaded to think about his fighting skills or finer motoric. But the second Black opened her jaw and he saw his team, everything was forgotten.

The first to hug Shiro was Hunk, actually saving him from falling. All air was squeezed from his lungs when Hunk wrapped his big arms around him and lifted him up, and Shiro laughed, wrapping a hand around Hunk’s head and tugging lightly at the long strands of his headband.

“Don’t be greedy, Hunk!” Pidge said with annoyance, their hand pulling at Hunk’s arm.

Hunk made a disagreeing noise but did turn around and put Shiro down. Pidge immediately wrapped their hands around Shiro’s torso, hiding their face right under his shoulder blades and not caring about hard armour cutting into their cheek. Keith came up from the right side and took a hold of Shiro’s upper arm, hugging it with his own arms like a small child.

“Hey, little bro,” Shiro said, looking at him gently while putting his free hand on top of Pidge’s. Keith said nothing back, only hummed and strengthen his grip.

And finally, finally, Lance came up too, taking a place on the last free spot beside Shiro. For some reason, he was the only one wearing a helmet, and it was little hard to discern his face, but it seemed to Shiro that he was… being shy, verging on uncomfortable. But Lance took a hold of Shiro’s arm too, the glass of his helmet bumping lightly into Shiro’s shoulder.

Even without being able to smell them properly because of the armour, being surrounded by his pack was _incredible_. From a faint smell of sweat, Shiro could read protectiveness and love from everyone sans Lance, tight junction of armour and helmet not letting his scent out. That just wouldn’t do.

“I would really love for everyone to change and meet me in the lounge. And no showering.”

“Cuddle pile?” Hunk grinned.

“Cuddle pile!” exclaimed Pidge. “Oh man, this is going to be so awesome!”

Shiro felt his cheeks heat up a little. They all had been scenting each other a lot since the start, and having a hug session with Hunk in the morning made you feel really good because even if his beta smell wasn’t that distinct, his pheromones had an amazing calming effect… But they had never had a pack bonding. And now was the best time for it.

“But what about Allura and Coran? Maybe we should do… _it_ … after you meet them too?” Lance asked, sounding unsure.

Shiro shook his head. “Pack comes first. Not that I don’t want to talk to them, but reestablishing our dynamic is the priority. Now go, you lot, you have ten minutes!”

Pidge was the first to let go, not without giving Shiro an extra squeeze, and run to the elevator, giggling. Hunk started after them, followed by Keith, who was shouting something about racing each other. Lance stayed, his hand sliding down from Shiro’s upper arm to take a hold of his palm, and Shiro noticed that his hand was shaking.

“Hey,” he said quietly, turning to face Lance. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine. I just… Maybe I could… I don’t…”

“Lance?” Shiro was starting to get really worried. Lance wasn’t looking at him, hiding his face, and—

Suddenly, Lance exhaled and looked up, and on his face he had the fakest smile Shiro had ever seen.

“Nothing! I’ll see you in the lounge!” And then he rushed away, leaving Shiro behind, confused and with a bad feeling swelling in his chest. Something was _really_ wrong, and all be damned if Shiro wasn’t going to fix it. Absence did make a heart grow fonder, and considering the amount of fondness for Lance that Shiro had already felt before being thrust into the void, it was time for a big emotional talk.

With each passing step from the hangar, Shiro felt control of his body returning to him piece by piece, his walking less and less awkward. He couldn't wait to get his hands on some sort of weapon, _any_ weapon, and destroy a good dozen of bots.

The panel behind the door chirped, letting him in. The room smelt sterile and was pristine clear, and Shiro prepared to tone down his neat-freakiness and leave unwashed clothes and sheets for some time just so the room could start smelling like him (and, possibly, _someone else_ ) sooner.

Changing into T-shirt and sweatpants and brushing his teeth (showering is one thing, having a gross mouth is the other) took him almost ten minutes he gave the others. He decided to pick up Lance from his room on the way, already feeling small shivers down his spine just from the expectations of seeing him without the armour.

But the closer he got to the room, the more confused he became. He couldn’t smell Lance, only Keith’s strong alpha scent from the nearby door. Even if Lance had changed and had left his room long ago, Shiro still was supposed to smell him.

Shiro stared at Lance’s door like it was an intricate puzzle, worry blossoming anew in his gut. Something really didn’t add up here.

As if answering his thoughts, the door slid open, revealing Lance in his favourite shirt with a wide neck that left one of his shoulders exposed and loose shorts ending mid-thigh, Lance’s choice outfit for leaving all the scent glands in the open. And still…

“How are you… here? I mean… You are right in front of me and I can’t…” _Smell you._

Lance was looking at him with scared eyes, and Shiro had never thought he would ever look at him like that.

“Are you ill? Is it something alien?” Shiro asked, his left hand shooting up to lay under Lance’s jaw, placing fingertips near the main scent gland. Lance shook his head in negation. “Then what is it?” No answer. Shiro brought his other hand up, now gently wrapping fingers around Lance’s neck.

It took almost a whole minute of massaging his nape and playing with short strands of hair before Lance took a sharp breath and tried to say something. Shiro waited patiently as Lance tried to squeeze words out of his throat. And, finally, after Shiro whispered a soft, “You can do it,” Lance blurted out:

“It’s Keith.” And after that it was like a water running through a broken dam. “He was always irritated with me. I know, I _knew_ he was worried just like everyone else, like Pidge who almost didn’t sleep or Hunk who ate so little, but he was… too ruthless. And he was our pack’s alpha at the moment, he was our law, and things that almost didn’t bother me before started to. I… I swear,” he sobbed, making Shiro’s heart skip a beat, “I swear I was working as hard as I could, trained as hard as I could, but nothing was ever enough for Keith, he was obsessed with finding you. And mo-month ago… My heat started. It was my fault, I was too careless with suppressants, and it started, so we had to lay low for a week in a far galaxy. And… after my heat ended… Keith was furious. He screamed about how useless I was and that I jeopardised our search for equipment, and how me being an omega is a liability. And after that… I don’t remember it clearly, but… I went sort of… catatonic.”

No.

“Went to bed.”

No, please, no.

“And when I woke up…”

Please, don’t let it be what Shiro thought it was.

“I was a beta.”

Shiro felt muscles in his arms tighten, his Galra arm heating up, and jerked his hands away from Lance’s neck, afraid to hurt him. Lance’s face became crestfallen at this. Shiro had often been clueless, but his brain was working so fast right now, that even through the rage he realised that Lance must think Shiro was repulsed by him. Shiro pursed his lips and laid his left hand on Lance’s shoulder, commanding himself to calm down.

“Shiro, I swear I didn’t do it on purpose!” Lance cried out. “You know I would never! Even when my family was struggling with money because of the pills’ cost, my mum didn’t let me transition, and I was grateful as hell for that, because I loved being an omega. I…” His voice cracked. “I loved…” A hiccup, a sob. “I loved being an omega.”

And then Lance started crying to the fullest, eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to tone it down, containing ugly sobs and biting his lower lip. At the feeling of Shiro’s hand once again letting go of him, he opened his eyes, wet lashes clinging to each other, and caught Shiro’s gaze.

And once again Lance looked scared.

And Shiro knew why. Knew what he saw.

The deep crimson of his irises. The indicator of alpha’s rage.

Shiro ran.

He ran on top of his speed, silvery-grey walls of the castle now hued ugly pink.

His brain noted, distantly, that there was a high-pitched voice calling out for him, the sound of bare feet trying to keep up with him.

The atmosphere of content and happiness that Shiro could feel from the lounge changed into the mix of worry and confusion, his pack sensing the anger of their head alpha.

Shiro stopped dead in the tracks in the doorway, surveying the scene before him. A large family nest made out of dozens and dozens pillows and blankets in the centre of the room contained the three members of his pack. All three had worried faces.

Shiro started walking towards them, and the moment Keith stood up and tried to say something, Shiro gripped him by the throat and lifted up.

“I trusted you with my pack. And you do _this_?” he growled, noting with satisfaction how the toes of Keith’s feet were hitting his knees.

“Shiro, what the fuck, put him down!” Hunk shouted, pulling at Shiro’s arm, scared so much that he forgot about the strength of Galra technology.

“He forced Lance to turn into a beta!” Shiro shouted back, his voice echoing in the vastness of the room.

Everyone froze. Even Keith stopped struggling in his grip and looked at him with wide eyes. Then his gaze shifted to something behind Shiro. The alpha looked over his shoulder and saw Lance, looking raw and scared.

And Shiro couldn’t smell a damn thing from him, even though the distinct aroma of an omega in distress was one of the most potent things to ever exist.

There was a plea in the blue red-rimmed eyes, and Shiro unclenched his fingers, slowly, until Keith just fell from his grasp, coughing and inhaling wildly.

“I trusted you with my pack,” Shiro said again. “To take care of everyone, of their needs. And this is what you do as a pack alpha? You accuse someone of being a nuisance for their _biology_? Need I remind you about how you were worried about presenting? And how you told me that everyone must be respected and even if you become an omega, not an alpha like me, you would _own_ it because every gender is good and worthy? How you were almost crying? And now _this_?” Shiro gestured at Lance. “You become a stereotypical hothead and lash out at the omega of the pack? The _fuck_ is wrong with you?”

Keith refused to look at Shiro and kept looking at Lance instead.

“Lance, is that true? Have you become—”

“What the hell do you mean, if this is true? Are you trying to play dumb? Fucking look at me!” Shiro used his alpha voice, gotten tired of this. Keith obeyed. And Shiro didn’t like what he saw in his eyes. Not one bit.

He looked at Pidge, then at Hunk.

He tasted metal in his mouth.

“You didn’t even notice. You… Oh my god, you _really_ didn’t notice.” Shiro started bending over Keith, his arm outstretched. “How the fuck—”

And then there was a hand on his other arm, tugging him away.

“Please, Shiro, don’t! I’ve never wanted to start a discord in our pack!” Lance begged, trying his hardest to get Shiro away from Keith.

“You are not starting anything! It was Keith’s fault all along, and I’m trying to—”

There suddenly was a warm neck right in front of Shiro’s face and a pair of arms around his neck, pushing him down, making him bury his nose under the jaw. Lance managed to worm his way between Shiro and his brother in a last attempt to stop the alpha.

“Calm down. It’s okay. Here.” Lance lifted his head just the right way to scent him. “It wouldn’t be much, but maybe…”

Shiro took a deep breath through his mouth, trying to follow the plea and calm down; his outstretched arm went behind his head to clasp one of Lance’s palms, the other one was laid on Lance’s waist. Shiro closed his eyes and moved his nose gently above the dark skin, seeking the gland. He inhaled deeply through the nose, nostrils flaring. The scent was there, faint, but familiar, an echo of what it once had been.

“I was attuned to your scent once,” he murmured into Lance’s collarbone. “I will become again.”

“Good. Hey… look at me?”

Shiro backed away a little and lifted his face.

“There they are,” Lance whispered in awe. “My favourite shade of grey.”

And then he smiled. A shy, but real smile, the one Shiro had missed terribly in the void.

The rage inside of Shiro died down, mastered by the scent and a feeling of the lithe body in his arms. His colour perception returned to normal, and his fangs no longer were sharp, although the small cut on the inside of his lower lip still bled a little.

And now, with heart beating at steady pace and logic taking control, Shiro was able to realise that even though he couldn’t erase what happened, he could fix it.

Because the transition wasn’t permanent.

Suddenly, everything seemed good. Shiro would never call himself an optimist, but at this moment he felt like everything will be alright.

Lance yelped and tightened his grip around Shiro’s neck when Shiro dipped down, weaved his Galra arm under Lance’s thighs and lifted him up, easily balancing him on the crook of one arm.

“The three of you will think hard about what you’ve done, and if I speak to you tomorrow and I and Lance won’t hear good explanations mixed with genuine guilt, so _help me God_ , I will teach you how to behave and you _won’t_ like it.”

Silence.

“ _Well?_ ”

A choir of “Yes, alpha!” was his answer, and, being satisfied by it, he took his leave.

As they were making their way back to Lance’s room, Lance was playing with Shiro’s hair fluff, twirling and tugging white strands. Shiro huffed a laugh when Lance tried to cover his eyes with it, genuine happiness bubbling in his chest at Lance’s playful behaviour.

“Not afraid I would drop you?” Shiro asked, smile in his voice.

“Not one bit.”

That was the best answer.

Lance grazed his fingertips over the cyan panel, opening the door. As soon as Shiro walked inside, it closed behind them with a soft hiss. Shiro inhaled.

“It smells almost as sterile as my room,” he said, disappointed. “And yours was being used.”

“So—”

“Nuh-uh, nope, the word ‘sorry’ is banned from your vocabulary today.” Shiro let Lance slide from his arm to the bed. Lance snorted, which earned him a light slap on his ass, which in turn earned Shiro a heated glance. “Sass me all you want, the word is still banned. C’mon, scoot over.”

Lance gave him a disbelieving glance but moved closer to the wall to make room for Shiro. Shiro tapped the panel, turning the lights almost completely off, the room now dark, Lance’s silhouette and features barely distinguishable.

Shiro lied down, covering them both with a thin blanket, and then wrapped his arm around Lance’s waist, pulling him closer, both Lance’s arms now trapped between them, palms on Shiro’s chest. Lance was running hot even now, even with beta biology.

“I… you don’t think this is a little bit fast?” Lance asked, his fingers playing with a hem of Shiro’s shirt.

Shiro knew what he was talking about, where he was coming from. Before Shiro’s disappearance, they had never discussed them as an item, it was just something… undeniable between them, that pull, that attraction beyond primitive biology, gestures of affection that one could interpret as just friendly although they both had known the true meaning behind them. And now…

“I don’t. I actually think we are too slow.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” Shiro paused. “I thought about kissing you when I was in the void. And I thought that when I come back, I will be able to call you mine rightfully, not just because the alpha in me feels possessive.”

Lance kept smoothing his fingertips over Shiro’s chest. His leg moved forward, locking them closer.

“I was afraid,” he finally said, “that you will be back and won’t be interested in me anymore. That it was pheromone play after all, with me being the only omega in the castle.”

Shiro shut his eyes close and buried his face in Lance’s hair, smiling at the silkiness of the strands. Trust Lance never to forego his beauty routines.

“That _never_ would’ve happened. I need you. Omega or not.”

“I… Shiro. I don’t want you to think that I would mate you just to become omega again. You know this, right?”

Shiro chuckled and left a kiss on Lance’s forehead. He moved his arm up from Lance’s waist, hooked two fingers under his chin and lifted his head, locking gazes with him.

“You, my darling, are having too many silly thoughts.”

And then he pressed his lips to Lance’s. Just a soft pressure, just a chaste kiss, just to make it real.

They parted, hearts beating so fast Shiro could feel Lance’s beat against his chest. Lance hid his face in Shiro’s neck, Shiro’s arm went back to his waist. Their legs intertwined, Shiro’s knee going further between Lance’s. It was silent sans for the sound of breathing and sheets rustling.

Shiro felt Lance’s mouth stretch into a smile.

Lance whispered, “Welcome home, Takashi.”

And Shiro smiled back.

Yes.

He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> There's a ton of issues for Shiro to address later, isn't there?
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr here - http://imyaslavie.tumblr.com/


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